When Mom's Exhausted and It’s Only Monday

Two weeks ago, I celebrated the Australian launch of my most recent book, Maternal Ambivalence: The Loving Moments & Bitter Truths of Motherhood, in Sydney. All was going well as I presented my ideas on mothering as a messy, interrupted, and loving experience, in which we constantly make mistakes and try to repair them, becoming better mothers and people in the process. Among a group of my friends, peers, and fellow psychologists and mothers, we discussed the importance of flow in mothering and how taboos and rigidity can be problematic and paralyzing. Our conversation delved deeply into the issues of maternal ambivalence: that as moms we experience multiple feelings on a daily basis, that we have loving, joyful ones as well as darker, disturbing ones, and that these difficult emotions offer their own value as they teach us about ourselves and our children. These are the moments in mothering that stand out, that melt, restore, and renew us. This is the lived experience of maternal ambivalence.

One Day in the Mom Life

Then a young friend of mine, a full-time working mom herself, became the heroine of the evening as she bravely and honestly told her story of a recent day-in-the-mom-life.

“I thought you would appreciate my day today,” she began. “After a long day of work and feeling totally depleted because my project manager was frustrated with me, complaining that I was doing something too slowly, I finished at 4 p.m. and raced to the train so I could get home to my mother-in-law, who’d picked up the kids. I couldn’t wait to see my kids, who both just wanted to watch TV and were exhausted themselves, so I let them watch while I made dinner because it was already 5 p.m.

“Both, naturally, had a meltdown when I asked them to turn off the TV so we could sit down to dinner as a family. The meltdown culminated in my 5-year-old calling me a ‘stupid f*ck.’ I was in such shock at both her wit and choice words that I couldn’t help laughing, partly because I had no energy left for anything else. And yet, there had to be consequences: I asked her to go to her room, explaining that she couldn’t talk like that. By the time her father had come home and also given her a talking-to, she was in the throes of a second meltdown, coming out of her room to hug me, crying hysterically because she knew that she’d made me so upset with her words. She was so emotionally drained that she passed out at 6:15 p.m. In the meantime, my 2-year-old son went to sleep after not eating himself and a second meltdown of his own about having a bath. I was finally in bed before the thought hit me: and it’s only Monday.”

Her account was a showstopper on so many levels.

Everyone in the room was living this mother’s experience as she told the story of her day, illustrating her own maternal ambivalence with so much sensitivity and truth.

The multiple daily feelings, the exhaustion of trying to be the perfect mom, and of course the falling short and the constant rush from one place or mindset to another—from work to her mother-in-law’s house to pick up her kids, to making dinner, to wanting to sit down as a family—and letting everyone down—from being pummeled at work and at home, without being appreciated in either space—and having moments of fun with her kids and being furious or resentful and being at her wits' end and laughing when part of her wants to scream, cry, throw it all in though she doesn’t, and acknowledging how hurt she is and what a failure she feels like and her daughter hugging her for 10 mins through tears and through the hugs experiencing the melting feelings of love instead of being rigid and angry, and feeling renewed and knowing it will all happen again tomorrow but for today it’s OK. She’s holding it all together, just.

The Contradictory Emotions of Motherhood

While this brave young mother doesn’t name it, she is demonstrating what maternal ambivalence is as she lives through her multiple feelings honestly. She realizes that her mothering brings contradictory emotions, including love and bitterness, enjoyment and irritation, warmth and anger, humor and exasperation, delight and anguish, compassion and despair, fatigue and renewal. She doesn’t deny her feelings, nor does she fall back on this one or that; she upholds the ands in the truth that motherhood is designed to bring all our feelings out. Then she surrenders to the melting moments of maternal ambivalence, the understanding that arrives with the hugging and the tears that paying attention to all of her emotions renew and strengthen her love for her children—and herself. She senses how she can better deal with a similar situation in the future by relying on the power of flow, her ability to laugh even amid the meltdowns. She doesn’t resort to stiffness, to being stern without patient explanation, to blame or accusation. She laughs and she tells her daughter why she has to go to her room. She doesn’t cut her off. Later, she forgives.

The Importance of Being the Adult

As we ponder this mother’s story, I think we can all identify with some aspect of it. We wonder how she managed to remain adult, calm, and collected, even if just on the outside, and whether we would have been able to pull it off in the same situation. And we feel her compassion and her forgiveness.

What does it mean to remain adult? In mothering, we are tempted to throw our own temper tantrum when our child presses our buttons, when we are triggered by what they do and say. When we give in to our urge to react, though, there is no adult left in the room. Our child behaves in an outsized way because they want a dramatic reaction; by remaining adult, we are not giving in to this. Instead, we give ourselves a few moments to pull ourselves together, to think and to respond. We lean into the moment, accepting the flowing of it, and we work with it.

Lessons From a Single Day

It's so hard. Sometimes we get there, and other times we don't. When we do, though, we learn how to mother better, and in this way, we get some agency for ourselves in the process. In the midst of a book party and talk, in ways I couldn’t have expected or planned to share with my audience myself, this mom’s story turned her raw, painful, and loving Monday into a lesson for us all. In just a few minutes, she taught us:

• The power of flow, and for this mom, it was in laughter and a long, forgiving hug.
• That living with contradiction and conflicting feelings is normal.
• That motherhood is designed to have difficult moments and tensions. These are not something to be ignored or “fixed,” but opportunities for learning.
• To ask for help if you are fortunate enough to have someone to support you.
• To pay attention to your triggers: exhaustion, time pressures, the desire for perfection are just a few.

Parenting Essential Reads

The Myth of Neurobiological Incompetence

When Your Kid Is Not Invited to the Party

The HUG is the melting moment for this mother and daughter, what makes it all worthwhile as everything else drops into insignificance. It renews and strengthens the mother’s love so she can keep showing up.

This is maternal ambivalence.

And after all, this mother is raising her children to have a voice and to be as honest as she strives to be, as difficult as that is to hear sometimes from a 5-year-old. The truth is, these are the moments to treasure, even when we are really just being a “stupid f*ck.”